Stuck
in a ***** two-room apartment
almost out of cigarettes ,
at one in the middle
of a sweaty Chennai night,
sobering up after two days,
famished
and restless
dreaming of mid-night
cigarette shops that never were,
dreaming of alcohol
(just enough to pass out),
checking and rechecking
the spent bottles
and giving up in the end
and settling to tolerate a night
with myself,
walking and babbling
and writing and thinking
and floating up on a great idea
and circling back to the floor
looking for cigarettes,
just waiting for the shutters to lift,
just waiting for this to end,
just waiting.

It was the best metaphor for life
that I've ever known.